


Come In From The Cold

by Leloi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Hypothermia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 00:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leloi/pseuds/Leloi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock rescues John and they recover... in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come In From The Cold

“Cold… why does it have to be so damn cold?” Sherlock mused to himself as he systematically went from room to room in the compound. Around him was chaos as those who had been hiding in the compound tried desperately to escape it due to the count down that calmly announced itself over the loudspeaker. Really Sherlock would have been long on his way too but something held him back.

Finally the correct door and Sherlock slipped in, assessing John Watson’s condition. His friend was naked and bruised. His wrists were held in handcuffs over his head but his legs were tucked up as if to protect himself. “Dammit!” Sherlock cursed as he knelt down next to John and went through his coat’s pockets to find his lock picking tools. “John! Wake up!” Quickly he began work to free at least one wrist. 

Blearily John came to, blinking up at Sherlock. “Cheers, mate.” His voice slurred.

Sherlock added intoxication to his list of John’s problems. Thankfully the handcuffs clicked and he quickly got his friend to his feet. “Can you walk?” Not waiting for an answer he half dragged John towards the door. “Come on, John…”

“Sherl… where are my clothes?” John cried out, trying to struggle into coherence. 

“Not now, John! We have to get out of here.” Concentrating on the map in his head he found the exit with a few moments to spare, dragging a stumbling, naked John out into the snow. Throwing John to the ground he covered the other man to protect him from the blast. As the debris fell in burning remains Sherlock sat up again to assess John’s condition. “John… John come on, wake up. Stay with me.”

John trembled, pale in the snow as Sherlock wrapped his coat around the soldier and pulled him into his arms. “Cold… so cold.” 

“Mycroft will be here soon…” Sherlock soothed as best he could. He knew the homing beacon would guide Mycroft to their location… hopefully before John froze to death. Cradling the other man’s chest against his own to share what little body heat he could he held John tightly. 

^.~

Sherlock woke, warm and comfortable. It took him only a moment to realize that he was naked and that there was someone in the bed with him also naked. Sherlock had curled himself around the other person in his sleep and they lay back to front with Sherlock’s face nuzzled against the back of their neck. A deep breathe told him that his bed partner was John. Protectively he wrapped an arm around the other’s waist as he explored every point of their contact. There was chest to back, of course, but also thighs and feet tangled together. Pressed against his pelvis was the gentle curve of John’s arse. The idea of it being there awakened unfamiliar feelings with Sherlock. Luckily he didn’t have to ponder them for long.

A soft throat sound and Sherlock expanded his world beyond the warm cocoon he and John shared. His eyes came to rest on his brother.

“Whatever possessed you to run into a snow storm without your coat?”

Sherlock raised his head, glancing at John’s sleeping face before looking at his brother.

“You won’t wake him. He’s sleeping off his pain killers for his injuries.” Mycroft smirked. “It’s nothing serious… of course. He should be fine in the morning.”

“John needed my coat more than I did.” Sherlock replied, his arm tightening around his companion. “You took long enough to get to us.”

“I wasn’t aware I would have to deal with two cases of hypothermia.”

“Case closed?” Sherlock asked as he relaxed.

“Of course. Go to sleep.”

^.~

John woke in a semi-darkened room. For a while he tried to figure out where he was. Last thing he remembered was being stripped and kicked. Now he seemed to be in a bed with another person. Pulling away from the body he looked down at Sherlock’s slumbering face. So his rescue hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. His bladder felt full and as he sat up and scooted to the side of the bed he realized that he was still naked and that he was still in pain, although if the swirling sensation was anything to go by he was on some pretty strong pain killers. Finding a bed pan next to the bed he peed. That was the only real motive to leave the bed anyway and he didn’t trust his drugged state to make it to the bathroom… wherever that was.

Behind him Sherlock made a soft noise. “It’s cold…”

“I just had to pee.” John replied, setting the bed pan back down and sliding back under the blankets. 

Sherlock gravitated towards him and settled against his side, wrapping a warm arm around John’s chest. “Too early…” Something warm and hard was pressed against John’s thigh as Sherlock settled back into sleep.

“Where are we?”

“Safe.” Sherlock replied. His face nuzzled against John’s shoulder and wiggled his hips to adjust himself before going still.

John had never shared a bed with his friend. This was the first and he hadn’t been aware of how hands-on Sherlock was when it came to sleeping. Not that it bothered John. His past lovers often remarked on his own touchy sleeping habits. Closing his eyes he relaxed and tried to go back to sleep.

^.~

Sherlock entered the room and found John gloriously naked before him. His arms were pinned up and he lay there, helpless and beautiful. John’s tight military trained muscles moved under his skin… his long and smooth prick proudly swelling from where it lay on its bed of brown curls. John smiled and he heard, “Fuck me, Sherlock. I’m yours.”

Reaching out he wanted to touch John, to hold him… but something was wrong. This wasn’t what happened. There had been a countdown and he had found John bruised and in pain. They barely escaped with their lives. 

“Fuck me…” John whispered, lifting his knees and exposing his beautiful arse… an arse that was so warm pressed against him. An arse… that made him think of things he hadn’t entertained thoughts of since he was a horny teenager back at public school. Oh god… such thoughts.

^.~ 

Sherlock woke. It was now morning and he looked around, finding himself still in bed curled protectively around John who was still asleep. Their position had shifted. Vaguely Sherlock recalled waking up before dawn when John had used the bed pan. Some time between then and now John had rolled towards him so they lay face to face with Sherlock’s leg cast over John’s hip. Worst of all was his erection which pressed obscenely against John’s belly. Cursing himself he rolled away to regain his composure. 

It was all the dream’s fault… that and encountering a naked John back at the compound. Of course he had seen John naked before. They shared a bathroom. That wasn’t it. Perhaps it was the closeness… feeling skin against his own. That had never happened before. 

Back in his school days his classmates would play night games together in their dorm rooms… games Sherlock was never invited to play. In the dark he’d hear boys whisper, “Fuck me… suck me…” and occasionally they would emerge from their blanketed cocoon to writhe together on the bed for all to see. Sherlock would see and they would laugh at him for watching. “Freak’s watching us again… stupid freak. Wanna get sucked too? Too bad you’re such a freak! No one wants you!”

So he banished all hope and thoughts of carnal pleasures. Those stupid dorm boys were right… no one would want him. 

“Where are we, Sherlock?” John asked.

Sherlock flinched. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed that John was awake or looking at him. “Holmes Manor.”

“This is your brother’s house?”

“And my parents before him… grandparents before them and so on.” Sherlock replied with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “Seven generations of Holmeses all conceived in this very bed.”

John sat up a bit, running his hand through his hair, making it even more of a mess. “You’re joking, right?”

“In that spot under your left elbow Millicent Eugene Cowry became Mrs. Perceval Holmes back in 1853 and they conceived Mycroft Ashton Holmes, my great, very great grandsire. And in the spot under your right buttock…”

“Sherlock!” John laughed, hitting his friend on the shoulder amicably. 

“Suffice to say it has a lot of family history.” Sherlock finished with a grin as he sat up against the carved headboard. 

“How did we get here?” 

“Mycroft found our beacon, obviously. After treating us both for hypothermia he placed us here to keep our core temperatures stable. As for why are we in this particular bed when any other bed would have worked? That’s just Mycroft’s twisted sense of humor.” Sherlock shivered for a moment.

John sat up. “Are you cold?”

“No… just…”

John ignored his protests and pulled him back down under the blankets. “You would have been fine if you hadn’t given me your coat.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Sherlock demanded.

“Thank you.” John smiled and kissed Sherlock’s cheek chastely. “You saved my life.”

“You’re… welcome…” Sherlock replied, returning the chaste kiss.

“You kept me warm.” John kissed again. 

“We kept each other warm.” Sherlock returned it.

“I want…”

“Yes?” Sherlock replied breathlessly. His erection was undeniable now and John was so close. They were skin on skin as he had never been before. 

“You feel nice.”

“Thank you.” 

“I want…”

“Whatever you want just TAKE it!” Sherlock growled impatiently. 

John pulled back, eyes blown wide, startled out of what they had just been doing. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to… John?” Sherlock’s fingers lightly touched John’s cheek. “I just meant…”

“It’s… fine.” John replied, bowing his head and resting their foreheads together. “I was just… getting a little carried away.”

“No… tell me what you want… wanted. Please?” Sherlock continued to caress John’s cheek with his fingertips.

“Am I allowed to do this?” John breathed.

“Do what?”

“Touch?”

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders and tried to pull him closer. “What do you think? Unless you don’t…”

“Touching is good… fine… fine to touch. I like touching.” John’s hand found Sherlock’s side and lightly caressed. 

“You may touch more of me… anywhere… I don’t… mind. I don’t mind if you… touch.” Sherlock tried to control his racing heart at feeling John’s caresses. But there was fear… fear of rejection like when he was a teenager.

John ran his hand up Sherlock’s side from waist to shoulder and then back down again to hip. “So smooth…”

Sherlock loosened up his hold and ran both hands down John’s back, following his spine with fingertips down to arse. His fingers dug into the thick muscle, unable to resist as John gasped in his ear.

“God, Sherlock…” John moaned, moving his hips a little, feeling his erection press against the other man’s. The hand on the detective’s hip gripped a little tighter as John fought the urge not to begin thrusting like an animal.

“Yes, John?” One of Sherlock’s hands teased John’s crack, using his finger to find a way between the warm cheeks.

John held his breath and then opened his legs a little wider, allowing Sherlock’s finger to explore, fascinated with the way the digit slid and delved until it dipped into his puckered entrance for a moment before pulling out and delving lower to discover his warm scrotum. “Fuck…” John gasped. 

Sherlock pulled his hand back up to John’s waist, unsure of John’s reaction to the exploration had been good or bad. Perhaps it was too soon… or John wasn’t comfortable with this sort of touching. For a moment it seemed like John liked it when he had given small thrusts as if to approximate sex. “Sorry…”

John gave a small sound of frustration, opening his legs wider as if to tempt the other man to explore again. “Why’d you stop?”

“Oh…” Sherlock was surprised at the reaction and slid his hand back down to probe the warm crevice his friend presented to him. A finger slipped into John’s body and he held it there, feeling the sphincter muscle tighten on him. At that moment he imagined what it would feel like if it were his dick instead of his finger and he gasped, feeling himself harden even more. No wonder those dorm boys had been so excited by this activity. They fought over who got to stick their dick inside the other just as Sherlock had his finger inside John. “John?”

“Sherlock…” John breathed, lightly thrusting, feeling his erection pressed against Sherlock’s with Sherlock inside of him. 

“Can I…?”

John stopped moving and looked down at the man he somehow had rolled on top of. “Anything you want, Sherlock. You can do anything you want.”

“Roll off.” Sherlock replied, pushing the other man onto his back and settling between his legs. “Is this really alright? It’s not like we’re… schoolboys.”

“No… we’re not. We’re both grown. Did they do this at your school?”

Sherlock nodded and rested against John, basking in his warmth. 

“Let me guess… upper classmen took a lower classman to play in bed after lights out?” 

“They’d go at it like rabbits.”

John ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. “Not all the boys though… Some boys didn’t.”

“Not me.”

“Not you…” John smiled and continued to run his hands through Sherlock’s hair. “Did you want to?”

“They didn’t want me. I was… too different and they didn’t want me.”

John pulled up his knees to keep Sherlock pinned in. “If it makes you feel any better… they didn’t want me either.”

“Why not? You’re… normal.”

“Thanks… I think… I just… I wasn’t like that as a kid. I studied hard… I figured stuff like that could come later. I needed good grades to go to uni and be a doctor. I didn’t have time to mess around. So they ignored me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ignoring you.”

John smiled and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s back. “I was too small…”

Sherlock leaned down and shyly kissed John’s lips as his hand reached down to wrap around John’s penis. “It seems big enough to me.”

John moaned and pushed his hips up against Sherlock’s hand. “My… height…”

Sherlock spent several minutes exploring the organ in his hand, fisting it and stroking it, listening to John’s moans and feeling his hips twitch. Crawling down John’s body he tried to smell it and taste it, earning him a rather loud moan and fingers tangled in his hair. It seemed John liked having Sherlock’s attention on his penis. Sherlock suckled and continued to taste, his fingers exploring John’s crevice again as his slipped a finger in. 

“Oh FUCK, Sherlock! You’re going to make me cum!” John whimpered as his hips moved to counteract Sherlock’s sucking. 

Pulling off he breathed in John’s musky scent. “Go ahead… I want to taste you…” Immediately he swallowed the organ again and added a second finger.

John cried out as he ejaculated, holding his breath with each pulse, Sherlock’s hair caught in his fingers before he slowly relaxed and released the other man.

Sherlock pulled away, and spit out a pubic hair that had gotten caught in his teeth. John’s semen hadn’t been so bad but the errant hair had been a bit annoying. His embedded fingers wiggled before they pulled out. Lightly he kissed John’s inner thigh before climbing back up the other man’s body. “Was I any good?”

“You were brilliant!” John answered, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders to pull him down. “Your turn.”

“What?” Sherlock pulled back a little, surprised.

John reached down and found Sherlock’s cock just as hard as his own had been. “This is something we can do for each other. You touched me… so I’ll touch you.” His hand stopped and he stared at Sherlock. “Or… is it you don’t want me…?”

“No! God, no! John… please… please go ahead and....” Sherlock got up onto his knees to allow John more room to work. 

John tightened his hand and began to pump. “Alright… I can do what you just did… You’ll…” But John had to stop as Sherlock bowed his head and trembled over him with a low moan, warm wetness spurted onto his chest and belly.

“Sorry…”

John wrapped his arms around the detective and pulled him back down. “It’s alright… I should have realized how close you already were.”

“I lack experience…”

“You’ll get better with practice.”

Sherlock raised his head and stared at John in wonder. “We can do this again?”

John reached out and touched Sherlock’s cheek. “Sherlock… That’s… all up to you. I don’t want to push you into anything but… I care about you. I want you to be happy… whether that means becoming your lover or not… it’s up to you.”

“You’d… become my lover?” Sherlock breathed and then made a face at the trite word. “Lover… I mean MINE. You’ll become MINE.”

“If you prefer ownership…” John chuckled. “Sherlock… I’ve been yours.”

Sherlock’s eyes lit up and he rearranged himself on John’s chest. “Yes! Yes, you have! And now I get to have sex with you because you’re mine and I don’t share.”

“Yeah… I guessed that with how my girlfriends all quickly disappeared.”

“They knew you were mine.” Sherlock mused. “And now… a shower because I’m sticky and Mycroft can change the sheets while I clean you.”

Quickly John found himself herded into the master bathroom and bathed. By the time he emerged, wrapped in a towel Mycroft was standing in the bedroom staring at the bed. “Mycroft…”

“And here Sherlock Holmes lost his virginity to his lover, John Watson.” Mycroft grinned, pointing at a spot on the mattress where they had been laying. 

John blushed. 

“Don’t be such a prat, Mycroft. You are just jealous because you lost yours to some insignificant boy in some insignificant bed at school!” Sherlock smirked as he sat on the newly made bed. 

“May I remind you that THIS is THE Holmes Family Marriage Bed.” Mycroft sniffled. “Any union made here should be legally binding… and anyone not Holmes who uses this bed will be a Holmes when they leave it.” Mycroft gave John a significant look. “Dr. Watson-Holmes.”

John raised his hands in surrender. “Your brother hasn’t proposed yet!”

“He should… and soon.” Mycroft replied. “Or I’ll do the honorable thing and take you myself.”

“You WON’T!” Sherlock snarled. 

Mycroft chuckled. “But John is rather… good… for the family. Don’t make him wait too long… or I’ll do it for you.” With a final straightening of the bed he left the room.

“I think your brother just asked me to marry him.”

“You’re already spoken for.” Sherlock muttered as he pulled John back down onto the bed.

“Am I?” John cocked his head to the side as he was pushed onto his back.

Sherlock lay down on his John and smirked. “I told you I don’t share.”

“Ah… good.” 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started this fic back in... August! It was hot and yet I wrote about cold. I forgot about it and went back to it in October during Yaoicon... then I forgot about it AGAIN and opened it up today, realizing it just needed an ending. There's a bunch of mostly finished written fics on my desktop right now... I don't like posting WIPs. One down... several more to go!


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